


Set Me On Fire

by Gala_and_Elle, theletterelle



Series: Slantverse [8]
Category: Bandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Bondage, Caning, Flogging, M/M, cigarette burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-19
Updated: 2011-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-27 13:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/296183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterelle/pseuds/theletterelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chiz likes hurting people. Butcher likes being hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set Me On Fire

“How’s that?” Chiz tightens the ropes.

Butcher tugs at them. “Tighter. Too much play.”

Chiz rolls his eyes, but yanks the lead rope over the pulley until Butcher is nearly on his tiptoes. “That’s as tight as it goes. I’m not suspending you, so don’t even ask.”

“Nah, ‘sgood,” says Butcher, grinning. He’s stretched out like da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, all four limbs pulled as far as they’ll comfortably go. His eyes are already beginning to glaze in anticipation. “Don’t tell me what you’re gonna do this time, okay? It’s better if it’s a surprise.”

“If you want,” says Chiz. He knows half of everyone would think he was crazy for letting his sub dictate the rules, but Butcher isn’t quite a sub. If Chiz says no, Butcher will accept it, but he doesn’t go for the bootlicking or the yes-sir-no-sir liturgy. And it’s not like Chiz cares. Australians aren’t generally noted for their love of formality.

He lays out his tools where Butcher can’t see. He contemplates, then chooses the half-inch cane first. It’s not exactly a warm-up to the main event, but it’ll get Butcher’s endorphins going, and that’ll get him through what’s next.

Chiz stands as far behind Butcher as he can and still get a good swing in. “Did you finish Othello? What’d you think of it?” he says, and lines up the cane.

“I liked it. It was--” Butcher starts, and then Chiz snaps the cane into his ass. “AWESOME. Oh fuck yeah.”

“Shakespeare really gets you off,” says Chiz, grinning. He strikes again, an inch lower. Butcher’s breath catches in his chest. He’d fall forward, if the ropes would let him. “Goddamn. Goddamn, yes.” The welts have already risen, dark red and puffy.

“‘I took by th’ throat the circumcised dog, and smote him thus.’ Nice turn of phrase, yeah? Made me think of you.” Chiz lands four on Butcher’s thighs, and is rewarded with a yell. He comes around to check on Butcher, whose face is reassuringly ecstatic. Chiz gives him a light slap on the cheek. “Stay with me, Butch. We’re just starting.”

“I’m here,” says Butcher, pulling his gaze back to Chiz. “God. Never leave. Or maybe I can go back with you when you do.”

“No plans before I give you a ring,” says Chiz, grinning, and steps back to give Butcher another six. Butcher pants his way through them. The muscles of his arms and back clench at each stroke, but just as he demanded, there’s no play in the ropes to let him pull. Chiz puts the cane down and comes right up behind Butcher. He can feel the heat pouring off Butcher’s body, the sweat beginning on his skin. “There’s lots of time before then, anyway. Lots of time for me to do this.” Chiz places his hands on Butcher’s shoulders, leans his head in, and bites hard at the junction of neck and shoulder. Butcher groans. Chiz leaves teethmarks behind. “You’re such a slut,” he says affectionately, slapping Butcher’s ass to reawaken the welts.

Butcher’s laugh is shaky. He’s flying with the pain. “That is the truth.”

“I’m giving you fair warning,” says Chiz. “If you want to safeword, better do it now. Cause the next thing I do is _really_ gonna hurt.”

“Fuck you,” says Butcher. “Bring it.”

 

Chiz opens the cellophane wrapping and taps out a single cigarette. He snaps open his lighter, sparks it up, and breathes deep. “Last chance.”

Butcher must be able to smell the smoke, if not hear the flick of the lighter. He shakes his head. “Ready. Come on.”

Chiz shrugs, takes another drag, and stubs the cigarette out between Butcher’s shoulderblades. A screaming laugh bursts out of Butcher’s throat, and his head falls forward. He’s shivering and panting for air. Chiz comes around again, lifts up Butcher’s head by his hair, checks his pupils. They’re large and dark, his eyes glassy. “Fuuuuuuuck,” he mumbles. “Do ‘gain. Muhfuh.”

It’s a match made in hell, a guy who not only will take what Chiz wants to hand out, but who begs for more. Chiz wonders if he can work his way through the whole pack. He lights up another one, gets it going nicely, then presses it against the back of Butcher’s neck. Butcher’s scream is choked this time, ending in a hollow groan, but as always, he laughs. “‘m burnin’,” he slurs. “Burnin’ up for y’r loooooove. Hit me ‘gain.”

“One more,” says Chiz, “then we take a break. Your mum’s gonna kill me if you pass out again.” The third one sizzles on Butcher’s left shoulder. Chiz can smell the cooked-meat odor. It makes him hungry.

There’s a knock at the door at the top of the stairs. “Boys? Is everything all right down there?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Mrotek!” calls Chiz. “We’re fine.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just burning Andy with cigarettes.”

There’s a pause. Mrs. Mrotek’s voice is disapproving. “I didn’t know you smoked, Michael.”

Butcher snorts and giggles helplessly. “I don’t,” says Chiz. “It’s just for the scene, I promise.”

“Do you have enough first aid supplies down there?”

“, Mom,” shouts Butcher, “We’re _fine_ , okay? Jesus!” He howls the last, as Chiz slaps the burn on his shoulder.

“Be polite to your mum, arsehole,” says Chiz. “Yes ma’am, we have three kits down here. We’re good.”

“All right then. Have fun. But if he passes out--”

“--I’m paying for the ambulance, yes ma’am, I know. He won’t.”

Butcher giggles again when she leaves. “You’re such a fucking Eddie Haskell. ‘It’s only for the scene, ma’am.’ What the fuck.”

“She’s nice to me,” says Chiz. “And she _didn’t_ make me pay for the ambulance the first time, so be nice to her, or I won’t do this anymore.” He picks up a flogger with twisted rubber tails and slams it across Butcher’s ass.

“Oh Christ, you _fuck_.” Butcher’s laugh is high, nearly hysterical. “You got me, fucker. Okay. Okay, I’ll be nice. Don’t stop.”

“Not likely.” Chiz grins. Until the day he has to go back home, he’s not going to stop. This is too hellishly sweet to let go.


End file.
